darkagesofcybertronfandomcom-20200215-history
Further Confessions
Back to 2010 Logs Goa Murusa Firestorm Goa had to fiddle with his comm unit a breem or two before making the encrypted call. "Murusa. Incoming twins." He hoped that would be enough, as his next stop was tracking down the teal seeker and bringing her along on a winding drive underground. He said there was 'something she needed to see'. And he wouldn't say much more than that -- even his spark bond was firewalled over. He wasn't really keen on Firestorm becoming aware how long he'd been hiding this from her. Keen on not being little sliced-up Goa cubes... but his discussion with Swivel, that he felt he needed to tell a random courier just for /security/'s sake... That was unacceptable. It was time. Murusa is at the gate waiting, her full Crystal Guard regalia on, the cloth draping around her and stating her station among the guard as a leader of the Guardian Angels. Guard issued spear is held in her right hand, kept close against her form. She hopes that Goa took the precautions she told him to take. Those sigils of theirs would cause a stir she doesn't want to have to try to explain. Better this be kept to the three of them. Firestorm snorts softly as she's nearly tugged behind Goa while being lead to the gates of Crystal City. Her discontent is obvious with that scowl on her silicon face, the femme seeker huffing haughtily as she said, "For the hundredth time, what could possibly be so important Goa? And in Crystal City of all places!" With much bothering from her brother, the mech managed to get her to slap on a magnetized plate. Primus knows where he got it. But Firestorm refused to give up her weapons, at least until they got to where he was taking her. The seeker rubs her hands together in both nervousness and agitation, not particularly liking being in the City... again. Goa was more cooperative in his preparations, completely missing the brand that typically rides on his fender. He rolls higher above the ground than he usually does, and there's a missing plate where his grenade turret usually sits. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with it, either ... he hadn't had a chance to reload his cab after he emptied it to transport Shred's replacement core. He felt so lightweight, like he'd catch air if he hit his afterburners. He knew far better, though, as he beelines his way to Crystal City's gates once he's in sight of it. Zigzagging occurred to his processor as a better idea, but it wouldn't make much sense to look like he was avoiding something, would it? "It's important." Goa transforms and takes long strides to close the last bit of distance between himself and the walls of the city. Once he'd recognized it was Murusa out there, anyway. Murusa smiles gently as she sees the two approaching, "I'm expecting these two, I shall deal with them personally." she states to the other guards, taking a scanner from one and stepping forward. She passes the scanner over both, hmming at the fact that one at least has their weapons on them. She looks to Firestorm, "You'll have to subspace your weapons or hand them over to enter, its policy." she notes softly. Firestorm skims low to the ground beside Goa as they make their way to the front gates, thrusters sputtering softly as she pulls herself upright on the air and finally lands before Murusa and her fellow guards. "Mrf. Fine." Her crimson optics give the guards a look before she detaches both arm blasters as well as her inner blades which happen to also remove her middle fingers. She then tucks them neatly away in her subspace, not trusting enough to give them to the guards. Murusa inclines her head, handing over the scanner to a guard, "Follow me." she says, then turns and heads inside the city proper. Letting the femme calm down would be prudent right now. Her pace is measured, spear tapping ahead of her, cloth fluttering gently behind her as she moves into the suburbs. Goa smirks unsurely at Firestorm, briefly thankful she is actually cooperating. While she's doing that, he approaches Murusa more closely, doubtlessly getting some odd optics from the guards. But he's ignoring them. Before he can get to saying whatever he was going to, though, the aged femme starts leading them in, so he simply enters step, motioning Firestorm to follow. he transmits over their link. Murusa walks straight to the Temple of Primus, the walk over silent on her end. She hands a guard here her spear once we arrive, then gestures that you two follow her on inside. Firestorm simply looks straight again, focusing on the back of Murusa's head and trying hard not to look at all the familiar surroundings. She transmits back, optics shifting him a glance as a roiling mix of emotions came shooting over the link. Sadness, confusion, anger, nervousness. It's all there. Gaze moves backto it's original position to look upon the church before them, Firestorm curling a lip in an annoyed sneer. She's not one for religion. "So... I assume you two already know each other." She finally asks gruffly once they're inside. Murusa takes a moment to dip her fingers in the holy water and cross herself with it, then takes a seat in a pew. "I know you both dear." she speaks softly, optics bright, a gentle smile upon her lips. "Goa.. hasn't told you... has he." the elderly femme observes. A glance toward the mech to confirm her suspicions. "Sort of." Goa wasn't quite his talkative self on the way through the city, more focused on, in precise contrast to Firestorm, seeing as much as he could ... though part of it was the one-sided conversation hitting his processor. Hard for him to talk over that. The grounder is finally letting his thoughts open a little. Fear, right now. Remorse. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that." He smiles, optics wide from taking the entire temple in, at Murusa. Firestorm raises a brow at Murusa's words, optics slowly shifting to Goa while slightly narrowing. "Told me what..?" Her head swivel's back to Murusa, arms crossing defensively as expression hardens, "If this is about my parents then I won't be staying. I.. have no care to hear of them." The seeker femme was quite defensive as she spoke of her adoptive parents, and with good reason. She hated this city and its people, those thoughts all too easy to read as she fidgeted in place beside the pew, not wanting to be here. Murusa sighs patiently at the mech, looking toward Firestorm, "Dear, it’s about your true parents, the ones who gave you and Goa life." she states. Goa drapes himself over the back of a bench -- he actually reaches out to touch the seeker's side consolingly. A new gesture from him, to be sure. He stares up at her darker face. "Please." Goa bunches himself back up again. The touch of the mech and the words of the guard seem to immediately drop her harsh mood almost instantly, her optics blinking open in surprise and scowl fading to blank surprise. "My.. real parents?" She shifts again, unsure of the news she was about to hear, though arms slowly began to unfold and settle on the back of the pew. "But.. how would you know? They're from Crystal City?" Murusa waits a few moments, then sees that Firestorm is willing to listen. "Yes, your real parents." she replies, then furthers, "I know because they came to me to build you and your brother." then a little shake of her head, "Just outside the outskirts. They were so young, in love, not ready to be parents really. But they knew exactly who to come to for the best start in your young lives." Goa sighs and starts to make himself scarce; He rises back to his feet and wanders the paths of the temple, gawking. So curious about this, about Primus. Painfully curious, especially, after learning of Robustus' faithful tendencies. And Crystal City -- maybe he was wrong. Maybe they had a good reason to isolate. Maybe they didn't. His optics and antennae twitch uncontrollably, absorbing every echo, every photon. There's a certain peace here, a tranquility, a sense of belonging to a greater purpose. It permeates the place. The soft chanting from the nearby monastery echoes through the sanctuary. A few parishioners are knelt down, praying softly to Primus, clutched in their folded hands a medallion given to the faithful. Firestorm's grip tightens upon the back of the pew, now hunched over to stare at the empty seat as she listens. "You... All this time, searching.. and you're the maker. Living in a place I once called home, yet never knew it... But why? Why separate us? Parents or not, why send Goa and I away from each other?" Her mouth twists up, a sliver of energon starting to form at the base of her optics as they move to stare straight at the other femme. Murusa meets the younger femmes' gaze unflinchingly. "Yes, I am your maker. As to why, when your bodies had been finished, your parents had come to the decision they couldn't keep you. I didn't know why until they arrived to see your optics come online. They had chosen opposite sides in the war. There last act as a couple was to make sure you and your brother were handed over to couples who had the means to take care of you. Sadly neither could be convinced to keep you two together." her optics hold the sadness she has kept for so long, "I wish it didn't have to be that way. I told that to them then. But it was for the best. To try to raise you alone in a military base would have been difficult." Goa takes a seat in one of the front pews, crossing his legs, his helmet tilted down ... as much to respect those here as to observe them with hungry optics. His audials still listen in on the conversation. These were details he hadn't quite gotten before. And that was the reason he wanted to bring Firestorm here ... not tell her. She deserved better than to see it through his self-serving, biased lens. His adoptives had the means to take care of him? These were the measures they went to ... just to find a sparkling? A bit more remorse creeps up on him. Remorse in abandoning them so easily. But he chokes it back down -- it was long ago. Like this wasn't? Like the things he'd given his purpose to weren't relics? He drifts into thought... It’s usually when one is in quiet reflection in this place that if you are open to it, you will feel the presence of Primus. Perhaps a soft whisper entering your perception. But you must really listen for it. If there were any whispers of Primus then Firestorm couldn't hear it. Not when her brain was running a mile a minute with the new information. "Convinced..." A slight sneer starts to form on her lips, eyes holding a hateful glow as she seems to find twisted humor in Murusa's words. "I can.. understand why they had to leave us behind. But I can't understand how you chose the families. What convinced YOU that sending us to two different sides of the spectrum would be a benefit?? Him to Cubicron and me staying here! What, was he not good enough to stay in the 'Holy City' and somehow I was?" She uses her fingers to make quotations, soon rolling her eyes and standing up straight, getting worked up now as her voice rose and echoed throughout the church, not caring if it disturbed anyone else. "Please! I'd never live the life I had here over again. Not with the people you handed me to. The ones YOU thought were right to take me away from Goa." Maybe it was the crystals in her circuits, maybe it was her own skewed logic, but she seemed to be thinking and taking all of this the wrong way. Goa could swear he feels ... consoled, by some unseen hand. Affirmed. Something new ... Firestorm's rising voice and flaring emotions on the link fish, fish, hook the mech back to reality. He lifts his helmet back up, looking straight ahead. Goa's voice seems to rumble on the link, octaves lower than it should be. He wasn't entirely sure of that, himself ... but the mech feels frayed. He just wants Firestorm to calm down. An odd reversal. Murusa tells Firestorm calmly, "I wasn't part of that process Firestorm. My sole role was to build your forms and get your sparks into them. If I had the choice I would have made sure of it you stayed together." she nods in understanding though. "You have a right to be angry at your adoptive parents." Firestorm takes a few long moments, just staring at Murusa, her own desperate optics trying to search the other femme's. Her form trembles softly from being riled up, fingers flexing upon the pew until she finally spoke, "I.. need to step outside.." And with that Firestorm releases her grip, standing straight and making her way outside the church, needing a bit to think and process all of this. Goa ambles up the walkway almost in the same step as Firestorm, taking her seat as she storms out. Though the mech sits turned to face Murusa, not so tensely grasping at the furniture. He's silent for a moment, then glances out the way his sister left. "Sorry." Murusa inclines her head to Firestorm, doing nothing to stop her. She sighs, rubbing at her temple. "She's.. a lot like your Mother." she smiles a little. Goa hesitates ... then smiles. "Good that what she's been through didn't destroy that, then." His smile fades. He didn't know either femme. That ... bothered him. There were facts he would never be able to know. "You want me to go get her?" Murusa looks toward the front of the sanctuary, "Let her think it over Goa. Only her spark can speak to her." Thin strands of wavering sadness mixed with an overwhelming confusion began to ebb across the twins' link and into Goa's head. Firestorm was now sitting outside the temple, resting upon one of the many benches with her face in her hands. Her natural personality tried to cope with the shock by masking it with anger and sarcasm, but now that she was alone the reality of it finally started to hit her as snaking lines of violet slipped between her fingers as she cried. The green mech wrenches his face up, a grimace, twitching optic shutters. "It's speaking to her, alright." He butts his nosecone into his hand, leaving it there for a few moments before he stands up. "I'll be back in a breem." Goa smirks as he turns to head outside. "Mother." Goa slips up behind Firestorm's seat, placing his hand on the back and hopping over to hunch next to her. "I didn't know what to think either." Murusa can hear the whisper, always listening for it when she is here doing her devotionals and prayers. She inclines her head to Goa, watching him leave and sighs. Then pulling out her medallion from her subspace and offers up her own prayers in softly spoken ancient Cybertronian. Firestorm could feel the presence of her sibling as he made his way outside, the femme waiting for him to sit before she finally looked up at him, the smudges of glowing tears lighting her usually dark face in a soft violet hue. "So long... and all the answers were right in front of us..." The always strong femme had her faults, and they showed, leaning forward to embrace Goa, looking for comfort. "You may have been a little more.. accepting. But I think it's gonna take some time for me..." Goa flinches as Firestorm moves toward him -- well, at least she couldn't stab him this time -- and his optics bug a little as he finds himself in a bear hug. Oof. "Dunno I'd say that." He returns the gesture, struggling to keep his arms from clattering on her wings. "Slip and Shred had to drag me back to Poly after Murusa talked to me. I'm just sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Murusa finishes her prayer, kissing the medallion, then putting it back into her subspace. She rises from the pew, heading back outside. The guard hands back her spear, which is attached to her back. She walks down the steps, taking a spot near them. "Would you like to see them through my memories Firestorm? Perhaps it will offer you insight and give you a little comfort. You two were born of love, given away out of love." her hand placed lightly upon the femme's shoulder, "I can only hope that you will one day forgive them, forgive me, for putting you on your paths into adulthood. Truly if I had the mech I have now, I would have adopted you two myself." then drawing her hand away, "It's.. okay. Was better for her to tell me. I wouldn't want to get angry at you..." Firestorm finally releases Goa, looking down at him with a soft smile as a hand reaches over to rattle his helmet in a sort of noogie. Murusa's voice finally caught her attention as the guard femme walked to them, the seeker looking a bit unsure to the offer. "Maybe... It would be nice to see what they looked like..." Goa seems rattled all over, not just his helmet, though his demeanor warms upon the realization Murusa followed them. He chuckles nervously. "Only if you wanna baffle how two big 'tronians add up to a scraggly mech like me." He offers their builder a joking smirk. He does motion her over, and in nearly a whisper, says, "The report..." Unclear if it's a reminder, or a seek of counsel. Murusa taps the side of her helm, which opens a panel, out of which she extricates a data jack. It lays in her palm. "I will not force it on you. You have total free will. Your brother has already seen them through my optics. Heard their voices as I did so long ago." knowing full well that he may just ask what she saw to affirm that what was shown to him was the same as what is shown to her. There is nothing this femme would alter between them. In her way this is a sort of absolution, something that should have been dealt with sooner. Goa is given a gentle smile, "If you must blame your design on someone Goa, then blame me. I didn't have to go exactly to your parents’ wishes. But they were firm that their son was to be a grounder and their daughter a flier." Firestorm looks to the cable now resting in her hand, listening to Murusa as she grips it and takes a moment to connect it to her own port. "I've had so much forced upon me. Things you couldn't imagine. But no, I'm looking willingly. I just... have to put my worries to rest by seeing them.." Firestorm visibly began to calm as her body relaxed, exhaust ports sighing heavily while optics slowly dimmed before turning off completely. It's like watching an old home movie, but so much more vivid and tangible. You may even recognize the surrounding area, untouched yet by the war. Murusa is approached by a femme and a mech. Young by Cybertronian standards. The mech was pure white with blue accents, strangely familiar to Firestorm in that regard, but obviously of grounder design by his bulk. The femme, a green seeker from a line before Slipstream's time, but there are hints of that design that you would see in Slippy. The mech speaks first, for such a bulk his voice doesn't seem to fit, perhaps it’s his youth. "Are you Murusa?" he asks. "I am." comes her reply, you can see how she studies them.. how they hold hands, hold the femme leans against him. "We need your unique talents." he continues. Murusa replies, "We can speak in private about this. Follow me." she says, leading them to her home, they speak about the femme being with twin sparks and that they needed someone to build the bodies. They also wanted to be sure that it was done in complete secrecy. Inquiring into what forms they wanted, they said they wanted a grounder and a flier, just like they were. She went about building the bodies with what spare time she had, the nervous couple visiting often to check on progress. Moving up to the moment of the sparks being placed into the bodies - so small, but put together well. She had entrusted a medic friend to assist her in the power up process. When she looks toward your parents, they are bearing emblems as they had not previously. The femme the Con sigil upon her shoulder. The mech with the Bot sigil upon his chest. They watch from afar though, the femme was crying and he was trying hard to comfort her. The war had just begun, they had chosen sides.. this was their final day together as a couple. "I wish we didn't have to do this." Murusa is saying softly, curling the young Firestorm in her arms a moment before settling her in the arms of another couple. "It's better this way Murusa." the mech says softly. Then she picks up Goa, "I wish there was another way." she repeats, then handing you over to another couple entirely. "They must not know where they came from... could they even forgive us." Goa thumps his fist on his chest. "Ain't blaming anyone for anything, I like it. Helps me slip through the cracks." He shrugs, looking up at Firestorm as she starts fiddling with her helmet. "I'd pro'lly just be more confused if I was tall." He recognizes the dimming. The link. He shuts up, scooting quietly away. The scenes play out smoothly before Firestorm, the femme feeling like a spectator in a corner as she viewed through Murusa's optics. The first sight of their parents sent a longing pang through her spark, a similar feeling traveling over the link. Another stream of violet tears began to leak from the corners of her optics unknowingly, her mind wanting to call out to the mech and femme of the past. But she knew better. They wouldn't hear her. However, those last words made Firestorm bite her bottom lip, wondering how they could think such a thing. And just before the scene began to fade off she spoke ever so softly, maybe to the memory, maybe to herself, who knew. She probably didn't even know she was speaking. "Of course I forgive you..." Goa seems to have adopted the same, bowed-helm, thoughtful hunch he had inside the chapel. He glances over at Firestorm occasionally, but is otherwise looped deep in his own processor. Firestorm knew now. Would she care about what he was trying to learn? Should she? Should /he/? He sighs abruptly. Out of the blue, something like nostalgia hit his circuits, but... darker. Reflexively, he looks over at her, her optics -- of course. Murusa smiles to Goa, nodding ever so slightly. To her these two are like children to her as her hands had lovingly made them. "You are as was intended." she whispers, reaches over to stroke his cheek, touch feather light. Like how a Mother touches a child with tender affection. A sadness is in her optics from having no children of her own, easily seen there for just them. That day had torn her soul nearly beyond repair. Only faith had healed that over time. The link to Firestorm shows her saying, "I cannot promise you that, eventually they will find me." The mech nodded to her, "I understand." he was hugging the femme against his form as she audibly sobbed, the pain for having to give away their children in his optics, in the tight but sad features of his face. "What are their names?" Murusa inquires. "Our son is Goa and our daughter Firestorm." he replies. The femme tears away from him, still sobbing. "It's so hard." she wails, body trembling in a mix of grief and anger. Murusa offered, "I will look in on them when I can." The femme nodded, "Thank you." then looked to her mate, stepping back into him and kissing him. "I will always love you my sweet." she told him after parting from him. "And I you." he replied, "Be safe, my love." The final words of their Father was the last she could take for now, the heavy flow of tears staining her cheeks and pattering softly upon her lap. Firestorm finally cut the stream, optics brightening back to their full glow before she started wiping her face, though it doesn't help much than to just spread the violet around. Goa gets a little bit of a jolt himself when Firestorm pulls the connection, immediately gaining the smaller mech's attention. His nose bolts to face her. His optics trace the trails, and the mech deliberates, eventually deciding that just a hand on the shoulder must be better than nothing. Murusa reaches over to Firestorm, the last visual is of the two parting ways, never to be seen by her optics again. Her touch is light as she removes the jack from Firestorm then folds the cord back into her helm and taps the panel back into place. "Sadly I only got to look in on you two once before I was called away on a long mission. I only came back in the last solar year. I sought out what happened to your parents and to you two." she looks to Goa a moment, "I still regret going on that mission." then looking back to Firestorm, "Your Mother died in battle and your Father was so stricken by her death because of their spark merge connection that he died as well. This was before either of you had fully grown. I tried to locate the two of you, but the couples that had taken you had covered the electronic paper trail very well. It was only by luck I found mention of you in a Autobot battle report." Firestorm eventually managed to wipe away enough energon tears to be able to see, her optics still a little cloudy as she looks to Goa with a soft smile, then up to Murusa. "Thank you for showing them to me... It's just a shame we couldn't see them for real. But what you've provided is enough to answer my questions..." The femme suddenly stood turning to face Murusa and look up at her, a calm expression gracing her face. "I'm.. sorry for what I'd said in there... Forgive me.. and accept my thanks for all you've shown us." Firestorm hesitates a moment, unsure if she really should. But she decided it wouldn't hurt, moving forward to embrace the guard femme. Goa easily lets Firestorm slip away from him. /This/ is what she had deserved, even more than simple knowing. "Thank you," he mouths soundlessly at Murusa, before eyeing the chapel entrance again... and letting his optics, generally, drift to the city with awe. Murusa smiles to Firestorm, "I understand, and I forgive you." she accepts the hug, returning it. She nods to Goa, "You are both welcome." she murmurs, then parts from the from, brushing her fingers against her tear stained cheek. "Come, I shall take you out of the city that has caused you so much pain." Category:Logs Category:2010 Logs Category:Goa's Logs Category:Firestorm's Logs Category:Murusa's Logs